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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22389808">Never Alone</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BustedBrain/pseuds/BustedBrain'>BustedBrain</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Labyrinth (1986)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Hints at suicidal thoughts, mildly dark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-01-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 18:42:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>564</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22389808</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BustedBrain/pseuds/BustedBrain</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Written from an LFFL #4F prompt picture</p><p> </p><p>Art by Ovas,</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jareth/Sarah Williams</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Never Alone</h2></a>
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    <p>                                                                                </p><p>
  
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>She was never alone...</p><p> </p><p>They were always there.</p><p> </p><p>She can’t always see them, but she can feel them. An odd sensation that she never knew before. It almost could be described as a tickle in the back of her brain, that danced down her spine.</p><p> </p><p>She hears them.</p><p> </p><p>Whispers, cold cackles, hushed murmurs in the shadows. Never able to quite make out their words, but knowing what they say must be of importance. Almost as if a soundtrack was being played on a continuous loop, over and over. It was enough to possibly push one over the edge of madness, to fill ones head with very dark thoughts. The want to make it all just stop.</p><p> </p><p>She use to fear them, at first.</p><p> </p><p>Yelling at them, pleading for them though sobs and tears to leave her alone. But over time, she realized that they meant her no harm. They never approached her, always sticking to the shadows of her peripheral. Over time their presence has almost become a comfort.</p><p>As the world she knew seemed to push her away, they were always there....</p><p> </p><p>She was never alone.</p><p>She sat on the floor, tracing the swirling ivy pattern on the rug beneath her. Illuminated by the light of the full moon through the window at her back, in an otherwise dark room.</p><p> </p><p>Alone, but never really alone.</p><p> </p><p>She hummed a little tune. A melody she created over time, that danced along in her mind, matching in time with the ever looping, indistinguishable, soundtrack of her ever constant companions. A soundtrack that she noticed, wasn’t playing at the moment.</p><p> </p><p>Silence</p><p> </p><p>She had not know silence for years. It was forign… It scared her.</p><p> </p><p>She felt a gentle shift in the air, one so subtle that had she not been on high alert from the sudden silence, she would not have noticed at all. It made the hairs on the back of her neck rise along with goosebumps traveling the length of her arms. Eyes darted from side to side, nothing to be seen, that left the only possible answer to be behind her.</p><p>She slowly rose to her feet, taking a long steadying breath before turning to face whatever may lie in wait at her back. But before she could turn herself around, her shadow on the rug was encompassed by one all too familiar. A clear outline of a high necked cape and unruly hair.</p><p> </p><p>It could only be, Him.</p><p> </p><p>“Why are you here?” She kept her back to him, not ready to face him. Even after all these years. Years spent so utterly alone, but never really alone. Tormented by a world, from which she felt so removed.</p><p>“I’ve come for you…”</p><p>She felt the warmth of his breath fanning over her neck. Felt the vibrations of his deep voice as he spoke. Felt the firm, yet gentle, grip of his glove encased hands grasping her shoulder. Felt the heat that radiated from his body, standing so very close behind her.</p><p>“Why? Why now? After all these years, why?”</p><p>She spoke in a shaky voice, as she lowered her head, one lone tear trickled down her cheek. One of his hands released her shoulder as he offered it to her, palm facing the dark ceiling. Not really knowing why she took his silent offer and placed her hand in his.</p><p>“Come, Sarah, it’s time.”</p><p> </p>
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